


The Drowning

by jawsandbones



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mermaids, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, mermaid au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 23:29:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8228381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jawsandbones/pseuds/jawsandbones
Summary: A reclusive doctor stumbles upon an injured mermaid. He takes it upon himself to nurse her back to health. 
“They say mermaids have magic,” he says. She holds the now half-empty mug, staring into the liquid, before leaning over the tub and placing the mug on the floor. She sits up, leaning closer to him with a sly smile. One finger traces his nose and he can almost hear the laughter she would make. “I have a bit of magic too,” he tells her.





	

Cold in the morning air, he hugs his arms to himself. The thin sweater does nothing to keep the chill from his bones. He walks along the shore of the beach, goose-flesh on his skin, and contemplates turning back. It’s his routine, to walk the length and back to his small cottage, one that he hasn’t broken in years. Even as he tells himself he should turn around before he catches a chill, his legs keep him moving forward.

He moves towards the cove, that overhang of cliffs, where the sunlight bounces off the water and onto the rocks like brilliant stars. It’s quiet, peaceful, and he hums only to hear it echo. So lost in this distraction, he doesn’t notice the shadow moving in the water. He does, however, hear the sudden splash, the weight on his back, the teeth sinking into his neck and the claws clamped on his shoulders and chest. It comes so sudden, the most he does is let out a startled yelp.

The weight drags him backwards, crashing into the rock wall, and it hurts the creature on his back enough that the teeth let go of his flesh. It lets out a sharp cry. He would think it an animal but for the very human arms around his neck. He digs an elbow into its side, rocking forward and smashing it backwards into the rock again and again, until its hold finally loosens. Freed of it, he scrambles away and clamps a hand to his neck, and finds a large rock with his other. He turns to face the creature, but stops in his tracks instead.

“You’re a mermaid,” he says in disbelief, his eyes growing wider. The creature is hissing, baring bloodied pointed teeth as she shrinks herself into a corner. She’s shimmering, scales under her skin, like glittering freckles. Her hair is long and wild, raven-black and utterly gorgeous, even wet. Her tail is a red the likes he’s never seen before, finned and long, shaking with anger. There’s a red he does recognize, the red of blood. A bolt pierces her tail, metal and sharp, the frayed edges of a rope at its end.

He crouches down before her, and places the rock carefully back on the ground. He then raises his hands, spreading his fingers, showing he had nothing. He moves forward slightly, while she continues to press against the wall as much as she can. “I mean you no harm,” he tells her. Either she doesn’t understand or she doesn’t care, because the mermaid snaps her teeth at him. He presses a hand to his chest – bloodied from his neck – saying, “I can help you,” and points at the bolt. She narrows her eyes.

Closer to her like this, the sun shining the right way, he can see the red marks on her neck. There will be bruises there soon. No doubt she was caught by hunters, but escaped somehow. She watches him approach, bristled and dangerous, shoulders back and claws digging into rocks. There are fragile webs between her fingers, and her eyes are bright blue with a subtle glow. She cocks her head at him, then slowly extends her tail.

Her scales are cold, damp from the water, and he can see why exactly they’re so prized by the hunters. She leans forward curiously as he examines the bolt. A barbed head – no way to bring it back through. He’d have to push it down all the way. The circle that holds the rope isn’t that large. It would be painful, and the mermaid’s more like to kill him before he can finish it. Not to mention a chance that it would make it worse than it already was. He would need to sedate her, or at least numb the wound. That meant bringing her back to the cottage.

“I need to get supplies. To fix it,” he speaks slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on hers. She seems to be listening, her head moving with each word, eyes wide as she watches his mouth move. “Maker, I hope you understand me,” he says. He stands, rubbing the space between his brows, and sighs. She watches him all the while. He points down the beach, in the general direction of the cottage.

“I can help you at my home. So it doesn’t hurt so much,” he says, “but I’ll need to carry you.” He makes a lifting motion with his arms, pointing at her, then pointing down the beach once again. She frowns, and her eyes linger on the pool of water. Eventually, her gaze moves back to him and she nods. He breathes a sigh of relief.

He crouches down before her, slipping one arm under her tail, and the other at her back. She links her arms behind his neck, never once taking her eyes off of him. “Up we go,” he mutters before standing. He’s not weak, exactly, but her tail makes for an awkward weight and he has to carefully rearrange her a few times before he feels confident enough to start walking.

The wind hasn’t stopped its assault in the brief time he was in the cove, and she shivers close to him. Her teeth chatter together as she presses her face against his sweater, her arms holding tighter to him. “I know,” he says, “I’m sorry. We’re almost there. I’ll find you something warm.” He walks quickly, not wanting to be seen with a wanted creature in his arms. He was lucky hardly anyone came to the beach.

His cottage is small, practically one room. It sits atop a small cliff by the water, which gives him a spectacular view of sunsets and sunrises. However small, it’s not cramped but cozy. He practically kicks open the door, and squeezes the both of them through. He places her down gently in his tub. He points to the dials. “Warm water and cold water. I’m assuming you’d like to have some,” he says. Her tail doesn’t quite fit, flopping over the edge of the tub, and she moves to regard the dials curiously. A hand reaches out, and she makes a soundless gasp when the water begins to pour.

She turns her hands under the water, a smile spreading across her face. He moves to the shelves upon shelves of medical supplies, humming as he picks and chooses the things he needs. She turns the dial off once the tub is filled, splashing her hands against it, that same smile still on her face. He places supplies by the edge of the tub and drags a stool forward before sitting on it. Blood is pooling in the water, small strands of red swirling around the wound.

He puts his elbows on the tub as he leans forward, and she sits shyly, playing with her hair. “I’ll need to push it through. Which means it will hurt. I’m going to try something I haven’t done in a while. Hopefully it will help.” She cocks her head, moving their faces closer together. She opens her mouth and frowns, then grabs at her throat. He gently pries away her fingers, leaning forward to look at her neck.

“Are you having any problems breathing?” He asks and she shakes her head. “Then it’s not a serious crush. You should have some vocal function, can you try speaking for me? Maybe your name?” She stares at him blankly before her mouth opens again, and only a hoarse wheezing escapes. She moves away from the edge of the tub, frowning as she sinks into the water like a sulking child. He chuckles despite the situation.

“Well, _I_ am Anders. Your throat will heal, in time,” he says before he stands. He clicks a few dials on the stove, before filling the kettle with water. “I promised you something warm, didn’t I?” She nods when he looks back at her, even though she’s probably warmed from the water.

“What do you think – chocolate or tea?” He asks. She tilts her head, something he recognizes as an ask for clarification. “You probably don’t drink anything too fancy down at the bottom of the ocean, do you?” She shrugs. “You’ll like chocolate. I think.” The kettle whistles, and he’s quick to pull it off the stove. He pours steaming water into a mug, mixing in the chocolate with a spoon. “Careful,” he says as he presents it to her. He makes sure that she holds the mug by the stem.

She looks at it, then back at him with one eyebrow raised. She cautiously sniffs at it, wrinkling her nose at the steam. He covers his mouth with his hand to hide the laugh when she sticks out her tongue and dips it in. She’s immediately shoving the mug back at him, mouth opening and closing noiselessly. If she could speak, he has no doubt he’d be getting a lecture. “I told you to be careful! It’s hot,” he explains through his laughter. “You drink it like this.” He holds the mug to his mouth and takes a small sip.

She’s still suspicious when he hands the mug back to her. She follows his lead and takes the smallest of sips. She smacks her lips together for a moment, then her eyebrows shoot up and she looks at him only briefly before she’s taking another sip. He chuckles as he sits on the stool, rolling his sleeves up to his elbow and leaning them on the tub. He watches her for a few moments more.

“They say mermaids have magic,” he says. She holds the now half-empty mug, staring into the liquid, before leaning over the tub and placing the mug on the floor. She sits up, leaning closer to him with a sly smile. One finger traces his nose and he can almost hear the laughter she would make.

“I have a bit of magic too,” he tells her. She cocks her head, questioning, then narrows her eyes and holds out her hands. She motions for his. He does as she asks, presenting his hands to her. Her hands are cool on his, but soft. She holds them for a moment, biting at her bottom lip and then she nods, hands slipping back into the water. She points at her tail, and then closes her eyes as she leans back.

Anders smirks and leans over the tub, dipping his hands into the water, over her scales, pressing at the wound. She hisses at his prodding, and her eye cracks open as she watches his hands begin to glow. He stops however, when there’s a set of heavy knocks at his door.

“Stay low. Don’t move. Don’t make any noise,” he whispers to her as he stands. He dries his hands on a dish towel as he makes his way to the door, taking a deep breath as he opens it.

“Hello doc.” He keeps the door cracked open only slightly, enough for him to see through, not enough for those at his door to see past him. Toothless grins, the stench of alcohol, rope with bolts at the end of it. Three hunters. “Fine mornin’.”

“Can I help you?” Anders asks, looking back and forth between each of them. The mermaid stays still, as he asked, and he can only pray she keeps that way. Hunters like these, hearing a suspicious noise… there was no way Anders would be able to stop them from getting in.

“We’re fishermen from up the coast, and well, something we were hunting got away from us. Seen anything strange about?” The hunters are cheerful, bright, and happy despite their brutal trade.

“No, nothing strange,” Anders says, trying his best to remain neutral.

“Well, you do see something, we’re just down at the village. G’day,” the hunter tips his hat and the three of them leave as Anders shuts the door and quickly bolts it closed. In the tub, her teeth are bared, her hands at her throat, pointing at her tail.

“Recognize their voices do you?” Anders says as he sits back down on the stool. “I’m sorry. Hopefully they won’t be back.” She quiets at his words, but the frown remains. Her claws tap the sides of the tub, an angry pattern of restlessness and he chuckles at her frustration. She looks like a stubborn child again, the bottom of her lip stuck out, the little lines between her brows, shoulders hunched.

“Let’s get started, hmm?” He dips his hands back into the water, glowing fully, and he concentrates on the wound. First, to dull the pain. It’s been some time since he’s stretched muscles such as these, but the magic still comes to him easily. When he’s sure the area is numbed, he puts a hand at the top of the bolt. He glances at her, she at him, and her hands clench at the sides of the tub. Readied, he begins to push.

She hisses and thrashes, turning her head away as the metal begins to slide through flesh. “I know,” he says through gritted teeth as the head of the bolt begins to push through. The bottom hits the tub and he’s forced to re-arrange her, more of her tail on the floor than in the tub so that the bolt can come through fully. She makes that soundless gasp again, breathing heavily as it falls to the floor. She leans forward, reaching for her tail, wincing as her hands trace over the hole in it.

Anders moves the bolt away and then turns his attention back to her tail. He has to gently move her hands away so that he can look at it. “It came through cleanly, thank goodness,” he mutters to himself, his face practically pressing against her tail as he looks at it. He pours more magic into it, but the most he can do is speed the healing. “We’ll need to wrap it, keep it covered. You’re not going to like this, but you should also keep it dry. So, you’re grounded, for now.” He laughs at her deep and heavy sigh.

He places the bolt on his counter, running bloodied hands under water. “You’re welcome to stay here. I don’t know where else you would go that isn’t wet,” he says. He turns back to her, crossing his arms, a smile on his face. Her face scrunches together as she thinks, her eyes still on her tail. After a moment, she nods.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! Hope you enjoy <3  
> As always, happy to talk at [my tumblr. ](http://jawsandbones.tumblr.com/)


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